


Blood in the Water

by Sassaphrass



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies), Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, Angst and Humor, Character Death, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Grief/Mourning, Jaeger Pilots, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Sad Ending, Slice of Life, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-09 11:28:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12886887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sassaphrass/pseuds/Sassaphrass
Summary: Agron's life is basically the best. He punches monsters in the face, he gets to work with his little brother and one of these days he's going to work up the nerve to talk to that hot tech.But, nothing good can last forever....





	Blood in the Water

**Author's Note:**

> In honour of the fact that our dear Steven DeKnight is doing Pacific Rim 2 and choosing to employ some of our favourite Gladiators while he's at it...

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“Stupid fucking glory hound. Selfish fuck's willing to put civilians in danger over god damn fucking-” Duro shouted as the techs began to undo the bolts holding the Drivesuit in place.

  


Agron rolled his eyes, as the techs got him out of his own armour.

  


“..Fucking no good Kiwis can't even follow simple fucking orders...” Duro continues, apparently he was prioritizing swearing over breathing.

  


Agron rolled his eyes again, even harder. The Kiwis _had_ been following orders, but at least this time Duro had waited until the techs (primarily of New Zealand nationality) had gotten him out of his battle armour before beginning to disparage the New Zealand nation as a whole, including the laziness and possible sheep fucking proclivities of it's many inhabitants (and many more sheep).

  


Agron sighed, exasperated. He supposed this was progress. 

Last time they'd been joint deployed with Crixus Duro hadn't waited until the techs had gotten them out of the armour and they had been less than gentle in unhooking spinal clamps once Duro suggested that all Kiwis were a plague worse than the kaiju. Agron was about 98% sure that the vindictive fucks had shocked them multiple times on purpose after that little remark. Electric shocks hurt, even minor ones, when delivered directly to the spinal column hurt like fuck, Agron had been still connected and had gotten to feel that (though of course Duro had managed to continue cursing through the pain, until Agron had put everyone out of their misery and punched him in the face).

  


The time before that Duro hadn't even waited to get of the drift before throwing a tantrum like a child, resulting in several million dollars worth of both property damage, and damage the Jaegar which had made Agron think that their lead tech was going to kill them both and make it look like an accident, instead the man had hissed at them like an angry cat and had not stopped glaring at them since.

  


Agron felt this was particularly unfair since, unlike his brother, he was fully capable of acting like an adult and only threw temper tantrums about that annoying fuck Crixus in the privacy of his own rooms...or the cafeteria that one time, but in his defense that hadn't so much been a temper tantrum as it had been a first fight in which Agron had tried to murder that stupid New Zealander with a lunch tray (and he would have won too if Crixus' terrifying one true love/life-partner/co-pilot hadn't gotten involved).

  


Agron tuned back in to what his brother was saying, and yes, it seemed he was still going on the topic of how exactly Crixus represented the very worst aspects of both New Zealand, the Southern Hemisphere ( _...it's a garbage half the world why do we even need it? What does it have anyway? Just penguins? I say we save the penguins and then fuck the rest!...”_ ) and humanity in general.

  


Nasir, the hissing possibly murderous head tech, was now staring at Agron very _very_ pointedly. Agron took a moment to appreciate that the tech had lovely eyes, and then took the hint.

  


It was so unfair that his brother was so immature that he forced Agron to constantly act as the adult in their relationship. They were only three years apart for Christ sake!

  


“Duro.”

 

Duro paused mid-rant and gave Agron a questioning look.

  


Agron valiantly resisted the urge to sigh dramatically. He stepped forward and slung his arm around his brother's shoulder. It was one slight shift away from a headlock, but he doubted Duro realized that.

  


Or, actually given how he froze the second Agron did it, he probably did.

  


“I think the only thing more annoying than Crixus Allobroge, is listening to you talk about him.” Agron said with false thoughtfulness.

  


Duro scowled and bated Agron's arm away with a huff. “Fucking Crixus fucking insults us and you-”

  


Agron sighed, and crossed his arms. “And here I thought I was the one who liked to fuck other the men, but the way you go on fucking Crixus seems to be a real priority.” Agron grabbed Duro and kissed him roughly on the side of the head.

  


“Don't worry brother,” he proclaimed loudly. “You have my blessing, and honestly this shows much better taste than I would have expected from you. Go out and win his love! You'll probably have to fight Naevia for him, but I will remember you proudly knowing you died in pursuit of amazing dick.”

  


Duro turned red and sputtered

  


Agron noticed that Nasir the angry tech is trying to hide a smile behind his tablet. Agron pushed Duro out the door ahead of him and cast the man a sarcastic two fingered salute behind his brother's back.

  


This was the first time the tech had smiled since they'd started being deployed with Crixus and Naevia. Yes, technically he still wasn't smiling at Agron, but Agron was going to count it as a win.

  


Agron, unlike his moron of a brother, was smart enough to know that while the Jaegar pilots might literally punch monsters in the face, they were very much at the mercy of the people who maintained the colossal machines.

  


In short: Never piss off the techs. For their ways are strange and they are vindictive and creative little fucks who will get revenge.

  


 

  


  


 

They head down to the cafeteria, Duro still sputtering all the way there about Agron's insinuation. Being Duro, he's actually seriously considering that his animosity towards Crixus might stem from repressed homosexual urges, between bouts of pretend gagging and ' _but like even if I had to choose a dude I would never choose Crixus!!”_

  


Agron snickers at his brother all the way through the line, but is starting to get increasingly insulted by the time they sit down to eat.

  


“Honestly, Duro. Calm down. It was a joke.”

  


Duro stares at him as he stabs a baby potato. “But, was it? I mean, the suggestion that I want to fuck a him of all people is-”

  


“Who does the smaller German want to fuck?” a smug voice asks. “Please tell me it's me. I've always wanted to be the object of a doomed unrequited hero-worship sort of thing.”

 

Agron sighs and glances up to meet Gannicus' smug grin.

  


“It's not important.” he growls.

  


“Besides, haven't you slept with half the techs already?” Duro asks.

  


“Numbers are illusion. As is time.” Gannicus replies, before frowning as something occurs to him. He turns to Agron. “Wait a minute, I thought it was the slightly bigger German that liked the boys.”

  


He smiles evilly. “Has this entire thing been a cover up? Is it really you who secretly longs for me?”

  


Agron doesn't even bother reacting to that. “I might, but I don't stick my dick in crazy.”

  


Gannicus gasps, and Duro hisses. “Ooh burn.”

  


Gannicus shakes his head dramatically, which makes his hair fly everywhere. “I'm not crazy!” he insists. “I have an addictive personality. It's different!”

  


Duro pats Gannicus' hand consolingly. “Two things can be true, bro.”

  


Gannicus scowls and stands up to leave in a huff. “You can both suck my dick...wait no. Agron, you are not invited. You might actually enjoy it.”

  


Agron rolled his eyes. Again. Sometimes he wondered how they managed to stay in his head.

  


Gannicus turns to leave.

  


“Oh. Wait. Don't go.” Agron deadpans, catching Duro's eye and making him snicker.

  


Gannicus turns right back around and sits next to Duro again. “Just remembered why I came over here in the first place! Oenomaus is in talks with someone to be one of the pilots for the new Jaeger they're launching next week.”

 

That makes both the brother's perk off. The launch of the as-yet-unrevealed new Jaeger had been much anticipated and will mean they finally will be released from support position purgatory on their drops.

  


“Yeah?”

  


“Yeah. Some Mark-IV pilot from just before the whole wall of life-trying-to-close-us-down-but-we-closed-the-breach-instead debacle. One of Mammoth Apostle's pilots.”

  


Agron raises his eyebrows. That _is_ impressive. After Raleigh Beckett's triumphant return had led to sealing the breach, even if it was just temporarily, original program pilots were near god-like.

  


“Shit. Where's he from?”

  


Gannicus shrugs. “I dunno. Dude was hiding out in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. Texarkana or something.”

  


Agron tilts his head. “Do you even know what Texarkana _is_ Gannicus?”

  


Gannicus shrugs. “It's a state isn't it? You're ones from the States.”

  


“Canada.” Agron corrects him with a grumble.

  


Gannicus waves him off. “Whatever. 52nd state.”

  


Duro frowns at that. “Wait, there are 51 states? How did I not know that?”

  


Agron wonders if he covers his face for long enough, they'll both go away. Well, he'll never know unless he tries.

  


“Anyway,” Gannicus continues, seemingly unconcerned with Agron gently resting his forehead on the table. “I think this infusion of new blood will be good news. God knows you haven't managed to find someone willing to sleep with you that already works at the Shatterdome. Maybe you can get in there before he gets to know you and won't come within ten feet.”

  


Duro laughs. Traitor. Agron doesn't lift his head off the table but grumbles. “I could find someone to sleep with if I wanted to. Gay bars exist.”

  


Both Gannicu and Duro laugh at that. Duro is a double traitor.

  


“Sure, I'm just saying, I think getting laid would do wonders for your personality.”

  


“I do not need to get laid. My personality has always been like this. Duro tell him-”

  


“I'm afraid that's true.”

  


“Ah, just who I was hoping to see.” comes the familiar deep voice of Oenomaus. Agron looks up to find the Commander of the Shatterdome standing next to his wife, and a shorter but very handsome stranger.

  


“Shit, never mind Gannicus I take it back. I would love to fuck that guy. Damn those cheekbones.” Agron whispers. 

  


Duro looks equally awestruck and leans over. “Just so you know, if I did have to pick a dude-” He gives a significant look at the newcomer.

  


Gannicus bursts out laughing and it's Agron's turn to pretend gag.

  


“Ew, Duro I did not need to know that!”

  


“What? I'm heterosexual- it doesn't mean I'm _blind_!”

  


Melitta, Oenomaus and the newcomer have all made a valiant effort to pretend that they hadn't overheard the exchange.  


  


Oenomaus clears his throat. “Anyway, may I present a new member of the Ranger team: Spartacus Thrace, formerly of Mammoth Apostle and the LA Shatterdome.”

 

They all put on their polite faces and nod along. “Yeah,” Agron jumps in. “Gannicus here was just filling us in on the new arrival.”

  


They stand and Agron reaches over to shake Spartacus' hand.

  


“I'm Agron Secutor, and this is my brother Duro, we pilot Wrangler Gold.”

  


“And I believe you have not yet met the third member of my own drift team, this is Gannicus” Oenomaus adds, gesturing to Gannicus, who does an admirable job trying to appear mildly well-adjusted and not at all like the dyed in the wool nutbar that he is.

  


“A three man team?” Spartacus asks. “I've only ever heard of that done with Crimson Typhoon.”

  


“Alas, we do not have the luxury of a customized Jaegar.” Oenomaus explains. “But, this arrangement allows one member of the team to rotate out, ensuring that none are overly fatigued, and allowing me to manage the Shatterdome without neglecting my duties as a pilot.”

  


Melitta smiles beatifically. “I really think this sort of arrangement could be beneficial to the Ranger program. After all, so many pilots become over-worked and exhausted, and there's no one to sub in for them when it happens.”

  


Spartacus smiles wryly. “An admirable solution, yes, but finding multiple individuals who are all drift compatible would make finding appropriate pilots infinitely more difficult.”

  


“A point I must concede.” Oenomaus remarks. “Even as things stand, the quirks of neurochemistry often force us to recruit our future pilots from... unconventional places.”

  


Was he giving Agron and Duro a lingering glance there? Oh, that was just not fair. Oenomaus had no room to judge! He willingly shared his brain with _Gannicus_ of all people!!

 

“Anyway, I must apologize for keeping you from your meal and your beds.” Oenomaus adds. “I know your Jaeger is still assigned to support duties and-” he smiles conspiratorially. “I would hate for you to be overtired when in the next drop it would be my wife you are protecting.”

  


“Hey!” Gannicus protests. “What am I chopped liver?”

  


Oenomaus smiles at his friend. “Forgive me, I misspoke. My wife, and my most cherished friend you would be protecting.”

  


Gannicus grins and puts an arm around Oenomaus' shoulder. “Aw. O, I forgive you.”

  


Melitta swats at the Ganner. “Honestly, you boys. We are trying to make a good impression on Spartacus, what must the poor man think?”

  


Spartacus smiles. “That Shatterdomes are the same everywhere it would seem.”

  


Melitta returns the smile ruefully, and starts to steer everybody away.   
  


“Enjoy your meal boys!” she says pointedly. “And don't stay up too late.”

  


Agron is beginning to sway a little just from having to stand for the last couple of minutes, so staying up too late is not really going to be a problem.  


  


Duro clasps him on the shoulder and they sit back down.

  


Thankfully, the interuption has finally gotten Duro off the topic of his possible infatuation with Crixus.

  


  


  


  


They stumble back to their bunks, and Agron is just about asleep the second he hits the mattress.

  


< _Agron_. > Duro whisper-shouts in German. < _Are you awake? >_

 

Agron groans. He's not, or at least he wouldn't be if his stupid brother would stop talking.

  


< _Yes, Duro. >_

  


_< I was maybe a bit of dick earlier about the Crixus thing.>_

  


Agron puts the pillow over his head. _“It's fine Duro.”_

  


Duro hangs his head down from the top bunk like he's ten years old and they're back in the bunk-beds at the red-cross kaiju relief shelters.

  


“But, like, it occurs to me I may have been really insensitive about the gay thing.” he whisper shouts, switching back to English. 

  


Agron groans in frustration.

  


“Go to sleep Duro.” he growls.

  


“Nope. Not until you forgive me.”

  


“I forgive you. You can't help being an idiot.” Agron reluctantly concedes.

  


“Good.” Duro nods, and lies back down.

  


“Will you go to sleep now?” Agron growls, punctuating it with a kick to the mattress above him.

  


Duro snorts. “Sure. Got to be well-rested for tomorrow. You know how it is: places to go, people to see...monsters to kill.”

  


Agron kicks the mattress above him one more time for good measure, and then rolls over and falls asleep.

  


  


  


  


 

  


  


He wakes up bewildered to the sound of the alarm. It's only been a few hours, and he's groggy and nauseous from exhaustion, but his body has a Pavlovian response to that alarm now, and he and Duro are both up, dressed in their cirucuit suits and on their way to the Conn-pod before Agron really becomes fully conscious.

  


In all honestly he and Duro are both less standing and more propping each other up.

  


One of the techs hands each of them some sort of power shake as they walk in to get their armour on, and they both do their best to choke it down as the techs buzz around and bolt the armour on. The jolt when they attach the spinal clamps, makes Agron blink back into the present but, he still doesn't feel fully there.

 

Duro meets his gaze. < _You sleeping, bro? > _

  


Agron nods his head.

  


< _We're gonna have to do it_. >

  


Agron doesn't answer and just sort of whines. Duro is much better at functioning on little to no sleep, and Agron really really hates their stupid last ditch wake up ritual.

  


Agron nods though and he and Duro lock eyes and walk towards each other.

  


_< On three.>_

  


_< One.”_

  


_< Two>_

  


_< THREE!>_

  


Simultaneously they draw back and slap each other across the face. It sends a sharp spike of pain through Agron's head.

  


“Awake now?”

  


Agron nods. He's definitely alert and in focus now.

  


Duro grins. “Alright then. Let's go kill some kaiju!”

  


Agron grins back. “Who are we supporting this time?

  


Duro's grin gets wider. “The Ganner and Melitta.”

  


Agron groans. “You mean they dragged us out of bed just to stand around and watch while G and M decimate the kaiju in less that fifteen minutes?”

  


Duro shrugs as they climb into the rigs and get locked in.

  


“We're soldiers, big bro. We do what we're told, man.”

  


Agron growls in frustration. “They can't get that new jaeger online soon enough. I'm tired of this babysitter bullshit”

  


Duro laughs. “Hey, we got to let the other kids have some glory sometimes.”

  


Agron grins and they bring they fists up and initiate the neural handshake.

  


It's familiar now. The images that flash past all memories they share. Their house in Augsburg. Vancouver. Vancouver on fire as a Jaeger rises up to bring death to a kaiju for the first time. . The edges between the begin to blur.

 

And then they snap back into themselves in the Con-pod with Mira talking to them from LOCCENT over the coms.

  


“Neural handshake strong.” she says. “G&M are already on rout to interception point. They're running point on this mission. You're running your usual back-up mission.”

 

“Alrigh then. Let's go look pretty.” Duro suggests impishly and despite himself Agron smiles.  


  


“Well, God knows, Gannicus' looks are starting to go.” Agron quips. "Too much hard living." 

  


  


  


  


  


The choppers taxi them and drop them a few kilometres back from where Gannicus and Melitta have engaged the kaijus. They head in a bit closer, find an appropriate defensible position, and bring up the visual feed on their helmet to watch G&M bring the beat down on another kaiju.

  


Gannicus has never lost a fight, something not unusual in a Jaeger pilot since losing a fight to a kaiju usually means dying, but, more than that he's never even needed help in a take down.

  


Everyone would like to give the credit to his machine. But, the fact remains that Melitta and Oenomaus have had to call for back up when they piloted together, but never with Gannicus.

  


“Twenty-bucks says that Gannicus takes out this one with a head-shot.” Agron offers.

  


“I'll take that action. He'll disable it, then take it out with a flying kick body shot type thing.”

  


Agron rolls his eyes. “He's only actually managed to do that once.”

 

“Yeah, on his last drop.”

  


“Ah, shit, really?” Agron groans.

 

“Might as well kiss that twenty good-bye, brother. There's no way he won't try it again today.”

 

They turn their attention back to the kaiju, something built along the lines of a spider, or a monkey. It's a bit smaller than the average, probably only weighs in as a Category 2 or maybe even 1, but since the breach reopened the old system's not quite so reliable. The new breed of kaiju tend to be built strategically, with more in their arsenal than simple raw size and strength.

  


This one is much more nimble than the average, and can jump. Which is new (if you don't count Otachi, which Agron doesn't because flying and jumping are not the same thing) and horrifying.

  


The fight's barely been going five minutes but, Agron can see it's going badly. G&M haven't yet managed to land a hit, and while the kaiju hasn't done any serious damage yet, it's a case of death by a thousand cuts.

  


Agron thinks of the way Nasir, the head tech, tends to yell if the Jager suffers unnecessary damage. Minor damage compounded across multiple systems can be catastrophic. It's like the head tech'c voice is echoing in Agron's ear...sort of like a really annoying, guardian angel with really sexy hair and pretty eyes.

 

“Should we move to engage as back-up?” he asks seriously over the coms.

  


Duro glances at him, taken by surprise. He hadn't parsed the pattern of the battle.

  


There's a long pause from LOCCENT.

  


“We can handle this!” Gannicus protests over the coms, though Agron can hear the strain in his voice. “Adding another Jaeger into this mix will just mean that we bash each other to pieces before we even put a scratch on this thing!!”

 

Agron hesitates. Gannicus has a point, given the agility of this kaiju, and the strategic ability some of them have demonstrated, it's not impossible that they'll end up punching each other in the face while the kaiju scampers off to rain destruction on civilians, and leaving Naevia and Crixus the only viable team in the Shatterdome to swoop in and get all the glory.

  


But, he can't help but wince as his friends' Jaeger takes another hit, this time to coolant system in the chest.

  


“LOCCENT, please confirm! Should we engage?” he asks.

  


Jager is staggering and the kaiju makes a leap, hooking its' arms around the Con-pod, and using the momentum to send both of them crashing to the ground.

  


“Affirmative.” Mira barks.“Get in there!”

  


The Kaiju has one set of arms hooked around the Jager, and was using it's other limbs and pincers to tear at it.

  


In sync, Duro and Agron begin running, it's barely a jog, most Jaegers, even these days, are not really being built for speed, but it's better than nothing.

  


“Abort!!!” comes the harsh cry over the coms. It takes a second to place the voice as Gannicus. “Abort you fucks! Do not engage! Repeat, DO NOT ENGAGE!!! Get out of here while you still can!!! Critical system failure! We-”

 

Indigo Vengeance explodes, tossing the kaiju like a rag doll, and sending shrapnel in shooting out with enough force to nearly knock Agron and Duro onto their ass.

  


Metal screams as pieces of what used to be the most decorated Jaeger in to PPDC tears through Wrangler Gold, and smashes into the extra reinforcement of the con-pod itself.

 

It takes a second to take stock once Agron's head stops ringing.

 

He's grateful for the drift in this moment. He knows Duro's okay without having to ask, and without having to wonder whether Duro's lying to stop him worrying. He can feel that they're fine. Both a little sore from where they been roughly jerked in their rigs, and Duro had pulled something in one of his legs, but they were okay.

  


They distantly hear Mira frantically calling for a status report from the pilots of the Jaeger had just exploded, but there's no response.

  


“Talk to us Mira.” Agron demands. “What's going on?! What happened!?!”

  


“Containment on one of the power cells was breached. The escape pods were jettisoned before we stopped receiving transmsission.”

  


“Fuck. We got to find them.” Agron decides.

  


“Wrong again, brother.” Duro interjects. “We need to go kill that motherfucker.”

  


Agron brings up visuals and sees the kaiju struggling up out of the waves.

  


“Christ. That thing's not dead yet?”

  


“Well, less dead than we would have hoped.” Duro supplies.

  


“Really? You think this is the moment to pull out the Emperor's New Groove References?”

 

Duro shrugs.. “Just tryin' to lighten the mood, bro.”

  


Agron growls and they head towards the kaiju. It's burned badly and embedded with enough shrapnel that it's barely a threat now.

  


There's a brief moment of indecision where they are torn on how exactly they wanted to kill it. Curb stomping as a certain appeal, but given the circumstances seems too...anticlimactic somehow.

They pick it up and tear it to pieces instead. And then shoot the remains a couple times just to be sure.

  


Nasir will probably grumble about the unnecessary use of the plasma cannon, but considering everything, will probably understand and limit himself to only a single, brief, lecture.

  


“Now, we can look for the Ganner and Melitta.” Duro declares.  


  


“Negative.” Mira replies over the coms. “You are not well-equipped for search and rescue. Appropriate teams have already been deployed, you'd just get in their way. Return to base. Now.”

  


They hesitate again, but only for a second, before following the order.

  


Agron frowns at the way Duro is breathing, but aside from relatively minor hurts from the explosion there's nothing coming through the drift.

  


Agron doesn't know what to think. It's been less than two hours since the alarm went off, and it seems like the world has changed. He might not like Gannicus very much, but the man was impossible to avoid in the Shatterdome, his constant presence infuriating, but as much a part of the fabric of life in the PPDC as the brushed concrete, navy blue and grey uniforms or steel cafeteria tables.

  


It was very strange to think he just might not be there anymore. Or if he was, he wouldn't be the same grinning idiot who kept trying to set Agron up with wildly inappropriate men, stealing his fucking chocolate ration and just generally being a smug annoying shit head.

  


Duro glances at him, picking up on the general direction of his thoughts through the Drift.

  


“They'll be okay. They deployed the escape pods, and if those things can survive an atomic blast and a trip through an inter-dimensional rift, than this little SNAFU should be nothing.” he says, trying to reassure Agron.

  


Agron nods.

  


 

  


 

They tried to convince LOCCENT to let them walk back to the base and leave the choppers free for search and rescue, but Mira had answered with:

  


“Do you know how much fuel it takes to keep that thing standing? And how much it costs? If you don't I'd be happy to put your head tech on, he's gesturing for me to hand him the microphone-”

  


The threat of a tongue lashing in the particular mash-up of Arabic and Maori that was the signature of an enraged Nasir was enough to shut them up. So, they meekly allowed themselves to be hooked into the carrying harness for the helicopters and flown out.

  


During the flight they finally start to clue in to how badly their Jaeger is damaged as the wind whistling through the holes the debris from Indigo Vengeance had punched in their Con-Pod makes them shake with cold even in their neural circuitry suits and battle armour.

  


“Don't unhook from the rig when you dock.” Mira orders just before they land. “That shrapnel cloud could have done a lot of damage, and we want to be careful.”

  


Agron and Duro both roll their eyes. There's no question of them obeying that order. Not when Gannicus and Melitta are missing, and Oenomaus is probably as close to frantic as it's possible for the stoic man to get.

  


They land with a thunk that jerks them in their rigs, and makes Duro hiss in pain. Agron can feel his brother's fatigue radiating through the Drift. He doesn't blame him, despite the fight being short, he's emotionally exhausted himself.

  


They release the neural handshake, and then push the button to unhook from the rigs. Duro drops free, but Agron's just let's out a muffled ca-chunk and shakes him a little. Craning his neck he can see a piece of jagged steel about the size of a dinner place lodged in the mechanics of the rig. It's a bloody miracle the only thing damaged is the release mechanism.

  


Duro chuckles as Agron curses and throws his weight against the harness.

  


“Don't worry, bro. I got you.” He laughs sauntering over. He tries wiggling the release mechanism, and then hangs onto Agron while he tries the automatic release again, hoping that the extra weight will force the mechanism open.

  


It doesn't work and he drops down again to stand in front of Agron. “Sorry, bro. We'll have to get one of the techs to cut you lose.”

  


Duro presses the button for the com. “Hey Mira, we need a team up here Agron's stuck-”

  


That's when Agron notices that Duro's left leg is dark with blood. He follows it up looking for the source-

  


“HOLY SHIT!” Agron screams in shock.

  


Duro blinks and follows Agron's gaze.

  


His upper thigh is impaled by a long thin strip of metal. There's at least a couple inches sticking out of the armour, and while it's hard to tell it looks like he's bleeding pretty badly.

  


“SWEET FUCKING JESUS!!!” He screams, and his terror and panic is so strong Agron feels it in the the Ghost drift like it's his own.

  


“DON'T TOUCH IT!” Agron warns just as Duro yanks the metal out of his leg.

  


There's a spray of bright red arterial blood.

  


Duro is grey faced and looks at him in confusion. He takes a step back and staggers.

  


Agron screams into the com for a medic team to get up here.

  


He can't get out of the fucking rig to help his brother. He knows what to fucking do! Pressure. Tourniquet. Stick his fucking hand in there if he has to. Stop the bleeding, or at least slow it down.

  


He jerks against the goddamn harness and screams at Duro, who's clearly going into shock.

 

“PUT PRESSURE ON THAT!! THAT'S AN ARTERIAL BLEED!!!”

  


Duro blinks at him dazedly but, ever the little brother obediently puts his hand over the surprisingly small wound.

  


“Duro, are you listening?” Agrons asks, trying to be calm. “Put pressure on the wound!”

  


Duro frowns at him in confusion. “I can't.” he says desperately, bloodly flowing between his fingers and tears starting to well in his eyes. “The armour's in the way.”

  


Shit. Oh fucking shit. Agron hadn't thought of that. That means that when the medics get here, they'll have to waste time cutting the armour off, before they can tourniquet-

  


Duro's face is white, and he's barely keeping himself off the floor with one elbow, the other can still obediently and uselessly clutched over his bleeding leg. He doesn't have time.

  


“Listen to me, Duro.” Agron tells him, using his big brother voice. “It's going to be okay. Alright? The med bay is prepped for Melitta and Gannicus. They'll be ready. They'll be able to save you.”

 

Duro shakes his head very slowly. “The Ganner.” he says softly. He looks up and smiles at Agron. “Don't worry. At least we got to be the heroes this time.”

  


He passes out as the medics, finally, finally burst in.

  


Agron screams at the techs to let him down and jerks frantically against the harness as the medics load Duro onto a gurney and run out, one of them working to attach a bag of blood as they go.

  


“LET ME DOWN!!!”

  


The tech, Nasir, who hisses and yells and lectures, looks at him with his usual sternness. Only, Agron can see it's a mask. Nasir is shaken by today, but is trying to keep it together.

  


“Stop moving.” Nasir warns. “It will take longer if you move.” And then gestures the other techs to step forward; wrenchs, and safety saws at the ready.

  


Agron clenches is eyes shut and tries to breathe evenly when he sees one of them slip a little in Duro's blood.

  


He can't let him think about that. They got to him in time. He'll be okay.

  


He just hangs in the suit and lets the techs work, tuning out the buzz of their quiet conversation.

  


His eyes jerk open as he drops ever so slightly, and he sees the techs move back.

  


“Try it now.” Nasir suggests.

  


Agron hits the release and drops out of the rig.

  


He nods, and moves to stand but Nasir puts a hand on his chest and keeps him on his knees.

 

“You are not moving one fucking inch.”

  


Agron blinks at him. “Why?”

  


Nasir stares at him in shock and shakes his head.

  


“The shrapnel nearly shredded this place. Luckily, we build 'em sturdy otherwise...” he shakes his head. “It's a fucking miracle that only the release broke.” And then he jerks his head towards Agron's armour.

 

Agron frowns and looks down to see pieces of metal embedded in his chest plate. He doesn't feel anything though which is either good or really really bad.

  


Nasir steps out of the way, and Agron lets the waiting team of medics load him up onto his own gurney.

  


 

  


  


  


It feels like the med-bay should be in chaos. Instead it's eerily deserted. No one's come in with a pulled muscle or a soldering iron burn today. Not when two pilots may need critical care.

  


The curtains are drawn in one of the trauma rooms in the back. Presumably that's where Duro is, and given how little seems to be happening right now, Duro must be doing okay.

  


A combination of medics and techs start undoing Agron's armour very carefully, delicately tweezing out the tiny bits of debris that had managed to puncture both the circuit suit and the plate armour.

  


Honestly, if everyone weren't so on edge, the entire med-bay waiting tensely for the arrival of Melitta and Gannicus, Agron doubts they'd bother fussing over him like this. But, he supposes it gives them something to do and keeps him from getting in the way while the doctors stabilize Duro.

  


Idiot, pulling that shard of shrapnel out of his leg like that. But, he hadn't been thinking, and honestly Agron can't blame him too much. He's not sure what he would have done if it had been him with a foot of steel in his thigh.

  


They finally get the plate armour of the drivesuit off and have decided that Agron doesn't in fact had some sort of life threatening trauma injury lurking the way Duro had, so they let him peel the circuit suit off and change into some scrubs before they suture up the laceration on his chest which is the only substantial wound he has.

  


A man in slightly bloody scrubs slumps out of the bed at the back, hands in his hair looking, defeated. He glances up, feeling Agron's gaze and his expression goes funny, and

  


Agron _knows_. He doesn't know how, he just _does_.

  


He runs down the medic wing and rips open the curtains to find the medical team turning off the machines and removing the oxygen mask and Duro.

  


Duro is dead.

  


< _Oh little brother. > _Agron sobs, falling his knees. < _Why would you leave without me? >_

_  
_

He cradles Duro's head with one hand and rests his forehead against his brother's cheek. He struggles to hold his brother close, the way he used to.

  


_(It had been easy once. They were close enough in age but Agron had always been bigger and taller)._

  


He hears someone screaming. It takes him a while to realize it's him.

  


He doesn't know how to stop. He doesn't know how to go on.

  


_(They were supposed to die together. That was the plan.)_

  


  


  


 

  


 

Eventually he has to let them take Duro away, and lead him back to get the hole in his chest sewn up.

  


He'd stopped screaming, though it took considerable concentration not to whimper.

  


The medic doesn't say anything, just sews up his chest with quick efficient movements, and the minimum of eye-contact.

  


They roll Gannicus in eventually and put him in the bed next to Agron.

  


He doesn't look like Gannicus anymore. He's still, and somber and staring at nothing.

  


He looks at Agron blankly and then frowns leaning forward to try and see into the other beds.

 

“Where's your brother?” he asks softly. “They haven't tried to separate the two headed German terror have they? Surely they know better than that by now.”

  


Agron meets Gannicus' gaze.

  


“He's in the morgue.”

  


“Oh...” Gannicus swallows. “Good...not _good_ but, they aren't alone. Melitta will have your brother to keep her company. She always liked him.”

  


“Melitta is dead? Are you sure?”

  


Gannicus nods. “She was dead before I activated the escape pods.”

  


Agron feels the tears overflow his eyes again. Poor Melitta. Poor Oenomaus. Poor Duro.

  


And Gannicus and him? What are they without their better halves?

  


“What happened to Duro?” Gannicus asks.

  


Agron shrugs and looks away. “A stupid mistake.”

  


Gannicus nods. He looks more like himself now. More present.

  


“They're going to let me go soon.” he confides.

 

Agron blinks at him and wonders why he is expected to care.

  


“I need you to do me a favour.” Gannicus continues.

  


Agron shrugs again, still staring at nothing.

  


“You have to tell me where you and your brother hide your liquor.”

  


Agron turns in surprise. Gannicus is staring at him intently. It occurs to him, distantly, that Gannicus is an addict, whose been proudly sober for a number of years.

  


Agron doesn't care. He just wants to lie down and pray never to wake up again.

  


Gannicus snaps his fingers and brings him back.

 

“Your liquor.” he repeats.

 

Oh, let him get drunk. Agron would like to die right now. Or, not so much die as cease to exist. A light-bulb going off...no muss, no fuss. Compared to that drinking seems...the correct reaction.

 

“There's a bottle of Jaegermeister under the bed, and a bottle of peach schnapps in my sock drawer.” he pauses. “Along with beer in the mini-fridge of course.”

  


Gannicus nods. “Of course.”

  


 

 

  


 

Gannicus is right and they do let him go before Agron. There literally isn't a scratch on him and it's so... _strange_.

  


The entire world feels strange though. Nothing is right because Duro is dead.

  


Agron's not sure how much of the strangeness is him and how much is the world.

  


When Agron is finally released, and gets back to their- _his_ , when he gets back to his room, he finds it in disarray. Gannicus has torn it apart looking for the bottles. Gannicus is lying on his back clutching the bottle of Jaegermeister. The schnapps is next to him.

  


Agron has arrived too late to get to drink any of the beer, but the schnapps will do.

  


Gannicus raises his bottle and Agron taps his against it.

  


“To the Victorious Dead.” Gannicus says, in that wry way he has of talking where you're not sure whether or not he's serious or making fun. “It should have been us!”

  


Agron nods and takes a swig. The schnapps is too sweet, he doesn't really like it which is why he's had the dusty bottle kicking around for so long.

  


He lies down next to Gannicus on the floor and his mind somehow begins cataloging the practicalities of the situation.

  


Agron is now without a co-pilot, so they'll either have to find him a new one or retire him and bring up a pair from the academies. Agron personally thinks bringing someone up is more likely. After all, he and Duro weren't ever exactly protocol. So, if he's not a pilot they'll either reassign him for some busy work or he'll be released from his contract.

  


He doesn't know what he'll do if his life as a Jaeger pilot is over. It's all he's ever wanted to be, since the day the kaiju swam out of the sea in Vancouver and got smacked down by the first Jaeger deployment.

  


Gannicus won't have this problem. Oenomaus survived and he and Gannicus still make up a viable Jaeger team. Though, Indigo Vengeance is probably in so many pieces they won't even bother with salvage.

  


Wrangler Gold suffered only superficial damage. If the brass is smart they'll stick Ganner and Oenomaus in her, until Indigo Vengeance can be replaced, save themselves the trouble of having to go outside the Shatterdome for the necessary bodies.

  


It occurs to Agron, distantly, that he can't feel anything. He's just numb. He looks at Gannicus and Gannicus is _gutted_.

  


Agron frowns and wonders what's wrong with him that he can't feel anything anymore. He wonders if it's just the alcohol, and takes another drink.

  


  


  


  


Of course, Agron is a big man of hearty German stock, and Gannicus is a no longer recovered alcoholic, so half a bottle of Jaegermeister, three-quarters of a bottle of schnapps and four beers aren't exactly enough to knock them out, so they decide to venture forth in search of more booze.

 

Which, is a terrible idea, since, it turns out, once they stand up they're drunker than they thought.

 

Agron frowns and looks around. Gannicus is gone and Agron has no idea where he is. Why do all the hallways in the PPDC look the same? Who was it that convinced them that nothing said 'Serious Monster Fighting' like brushed concrete? Honestly, it's horrendously ugly on top of being difficult to navigate. 

  


Agron opens a door experimentally. It's unlocked, and it's not his room. Sadly, it's not empty. There's someone staring at him. Agron murmurs and apology and tries the next door.

  


Jackpot. Empty, and judging by the lack of crap, not even occupied.

  


Good luck. Such good luck, but Agron's always been lucky.

  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


Nasir tries to clear the smell of blood from his nostrils. He does so subtly, he doesn't want the rest of the team to see that he is rattled.

  


They need to catalogue the damage and fix anything critical. So far, it's nothing too dire. Mostly mechanical damage, nothing that a few patch jobs shouldn't fix.

  


Well, except Duro. The news had been trickling out of the med-bay for the last couple hours. Duro had died on the table., Catastrophic blood loss, his heart had stopped and they hadn't been able to get it restarted.

  


And then there's the blood they need to....

  


He just...he doesn't understand how things went so wrong.

  


Drop days are usually quiet for him. When the alarm sounds it's out of his hands, and up to the pilots and the people in LOCCENT to save the day. He and Chadara usually try and relax, and act like they won't at any moment be killed by giant ravening monsters from an alternate nightmare dimension.

  


Even when the Jaeger gets back, it's usually quiet. If they managed to get back repairs are normally minor enough to wait.

 

It had been a standard drop. Some of the sensors had been blown out by the explosion, but it has seemed...it had been _okay._ Right up until the moment where Duro bled out on the Com-pod floor, that is. 

  


When someone comes up to tell them that Melitta had been DOA, Nasir give up and tells the team they can go. They've done what they need to anyway.

  


He goes down and gets a hose and sprays down the Con-pod on his own.

  


He doesn't notice until he's half-way down the hallway that his shoes are ruined. His socks too.

  


His hands start shaking and he decides to head towards the communal showers. As a high level tech he has his own but.

  


But. He doesn't want to have to go back and face his empty room, and think about Duro or Agron, or Melitta.

  


His hands are shaking so he shoves them in his pockets and keeps walking.

  


He stops before going in and peels his sock and shoes off. He hesitates a minute before tossing them. Things aren't as bad, trade wise as they were before the breach was closed, but the habits of deprivation still remain.

  


Still, Nasir doesn't think he'll ever be able to bring himself to wear those shoes again. Not when they're soaked in the blood of a dead man and he'll never get those stains out. 

  


He showers on autopilot, his mind still caught up on the...improbability of what happened today.

  


Because, every way he looks at it Duro shouldn't have died, and the more he thinks about it the more helpless and angry he feels.

  


If a team had met the pilot when they landed.

  


If they had designed the armour to be more easily removed in case of injury.

  


If the shrapnel had been a little bit lower or to either side it wouldn't have hit the artery.

  


If Agron's release hadn't been jammed he would have stopped Duro from yanking the shrapnel out.

  


On and on. A thousand little ways that Duro should have lived.

  


It's not just Nasir's hands that are shaking now. 

  


He pulls his sweatpants on and grabs a standard issue t-shirt.

  


He's relieved when he gets back to his room. He relaxes the control he's kept this entire time, and sinks down to sit leaned up against the door, suddenly too exhausted to move.

  


He takes a deep breath and feels his eyes burn. He hadn't known Duro well, and he doesn't think he'd ever even spoken to Melitta. But, still, it hits him hard to think of them like that.

  


Agron and Duro had been inseparable. More friendly than lots of pilots, but not really interested in letting anyone else in to their little closed circle.

  


He staggers back to his feet and collapses onto his bed. Right onto someone else.

  


They both scream, and Nasir flails for the light switch.

  


He finally manages to hit it and finds himself face to face with a slightly drunk, puffy faced, red eyed Agron.

  


“What are you doing here?!” Nasir shrieks.

  


Agron blinks. “S'an empty room.” he mumbles.

  


Nasir shakes his head. “It's my room.”

 

Agron frowns in confusion and tilts his head, looking around. “oh. Couldn't tell in the dark.”

  


Nasir stares at him. “What were you doing looking for an empty room?!”

  


Agron looks down, like he's embarrassed or ashamed. “Couldn't go back to ours. Not by myself.”

  


Nasir's heart clenches in understanding but that doesn't mean he's going to let six and a half feet of drunken German crash uninvited.

  


“What if I took you back, and stayed with you?”

  


Agron shrugs. The muscle in his jaw jumps.

  


Nasir takes that as a yes and puts one of Agron's arms around his shoulders before dragging him to his feet.

  


They're half-way back to Nasir's room when Agron pipes up.

  


“You're pretty, Nasir. I like your eyes.”

  


Nasir frowns and turns to look at Agron who's still staring at nothing.

  


“Thanks?”

  


“Duro used to tease me, 'bout it.”

  


“About what?”

  


“About how I thought you were pretty.”

  


Nasir swallows. “C'mon, big man we're almost back.”

  


Agron digs his heels in once they get to the door of his room.

  


“I don't want to go in there.” he whines.

  


Nasir sighs. The truth is he honestly doesn't know where else to put Agron. Nasir doesn't know the man well enough to know who his friends in the Shatterdome are (or whether he had any), and if he lets him stay with him than the people who come looking for Agron won't be able to find him.

  


“I'll sit with you.” Nasir offers. “Until you fall asleep.”

  


Agron hesitates but then nods.

  


The room has been ransacked all the brothers' belongings thrown all over the place.

  


“Sweet Jesus. What happened?”

  


Agron shrugs and collapses onto his bunk. “I told Gannicus where I hid my booze.”

  


Nasir stares at Agron in horror. “Oh, Agron. You shouldn't have done that.”

  


Agron glares defiantly. “I'd have done it. If I were him.”

  


Nasir perches on the narrow bunch near Agron's head. Agron lies with his eyes open, staring at nothing.

  


“Did you feel it?” Nasir finally finds the courage to ask, tentatively. “When he died?” No response. “Only, I've heard that pilots sometimes do.”

 

Agron shakes his head. “I didn't know.” His eyes starts to overflow with tears, but there's something offhand about them, as though he's so far past, dramatics or hysterics, that his tears are an afterthought even to himself.

  


Nasir shyly reaches out to run a hand through his hair. “I had a brother, once.” he tells Agron.

  


Agron looks at him, for the first time since Nasir found him in his room. “Oh?”

  


Nasir nods. “Yeah.”

  


Agron swallows. “Tell me about him.”

  


So, Nasir does, until Agron falls asleep. Then he puts a call in to medical, and Mira in LOCCENT who knows everything and therefore must be able to track down whatever friends Agron has. God knows the poor guy is going to need them.

  


 

  


  


  


Agron wakes up with when their daily alarm goes off. In all the rush and insanity it hadn't occurred to him to turn it off, or even look at his cell phone.

  


He turns the light on and gets a look at his room.

  


Gannicus had ransacked it in last night's quest for booze and it takes quite a bit of digging to unearth the cell phone from beneath an overturned laundry hamper.

  


Agron turns the alarm off and blinks when an unfamiliar picture appears as the lock screen. It's Duro's phone. Christ, he's not even sure he knows the password.

  


God, he's not ready to deal with things.

  


Agron turns the lights off and crawls back into bed. He doesn't sleep, just lies in the darkness aching at the loss.

  


_We were supposed to die together. You weren't supposed to leave me alone._

  


This wallowing doesn't last long. Turns out, there's one thing worse than this shitty shitty situation, and that is lying there thinking about this shitty shitty situation.

  


And then Agron's phone alarm goes off.

  


So, he just...gets up, and gets ready like it's a normal day.

**Author's Note:**

> The end... ? 
> 
> Hope there are a few die-hard Sparta-fans (is that the term?) who enjoyed this despite the sad ending, 'cause I had fun writing it.


End file.
